Tuesday

 

 

Current mood:  satisfied

It's Tuesday and a good day to die. The sky is wide, the sun is hard and clear, and the air is too bright to breathe. I've got so much unfinished business I should by all accounts remain in limbo for ever or at least care, but I don't. It's a strange awakening, so pregnant with power and yet so weak, ungraceful mercy. Simple. Truth and honesty are here, staring you in the face through my eyes and you leave me alone because you can feel the fear you have of me and don't understand it. You want to think you do because power is attractive and I'm having a good hair day, but really…you are gaping at an expanding chasm of empty and you don't know how to even look at it. So you stumble through your speech and trip over your thoughts because they are just shadows of me and you barely realize where they are while they engulf and surround you and you feel like you are choking on their fluidity.

And while you envision me writhing there you feel helpless and don't understand how there can be strength in my falling down. It's like a bomb, explosive destruction, reaching into the details of your life without explaining why or how or where it comes from. Traveling at twice the speed of life, an inevitable head-on collision with the restraints of time and space and eternity and finality and the portal to silence, a supernova of decision and choice and determination that merely explodes and ends.

I have to go.